


Gaze On, and Remember...

by Bofur1



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:08:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Bofur1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three instances when Bilbo remembered something monumental in his lifetime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gaze On, and Remember...

Bilbo Baggins, an one-hundred-eleven-year-old gray-haired Hobbit, approaches the large trunk in the corner of his study, his expression almost wary. As he opens it and sees the contents within, his heart begins to ache in a most painful way. He gazes at his sheathed, dusty sword for a long moment, remembering.

_...“True courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one.”..._

_...“More of a letter-opener, really.”..._

_...”It’s got an Elfish blade, but it’s not an Elfs!”..._

_...“And I shall name you Sting!”..._

Bilbo finds his hand reaching toward the hilt, but he forces himself to maneuver around Sting and instead grasps the spine of a heavy red book. A blank red book, but not for long. The Hobbit scuttles over to his desk, dips his quill into the ink, and begins to write. The characters come quickly as memory floods the pages.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Fifty-one-year-old Bilbo Baggins crept from his room, eyes quickly sweeping his residence. All of Bag End was utterly— almost stiflingly—silent. Bilbo’s mind raced. Where were Thorin Oakenshield, Gandalf, and the others? After a very thorough investigation, Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief. They had all gone, and he could move on in peace.

But when he looked down, he saw something lying on a stool. It was the last trace of the Dwarves’ visit: the Burglar Contract.

As he stared at it, Bilbo was very conscious of the signatures at the bottom:

 

Signed: _Thorin son of Thráin_

Witnessed: _Balin son of Fundin_

Burglar:

 

Bilbo gazed at the blank space next to the word ‘Burglar’ for a long time, remembering.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Little Bilbo Baggins looked on admiringly as his mother held out a cup and saucer package towards him.

“This is Westfarthing pottery, Bilbo, one of the finest makes in this day and age,” Belladonna Took explained. She smiled sadly as she added, “When your grandmother died it was handed down to me. I remember sitting at the table with her, drinking tea out of these very cups. Those were very precious moments.”

Bilbo nodded as he fished through his mother’s glory box. “What’s this?” he asked curiously as he pulled out a peculiar garment he’d never seen before. It was silky and lined with lace and smelled strangely of violets.

A blush bloomed in Belladonna’s face. “Ahem, that...that’s private,” she stammered as she pulled the wedding-night undergarments away from her befuddled son.

Bilbo’s attention quickly shifted to something else. “What about this, Mama?” He held it out to her, and Belladonna gasped.

“I completely forgot about this!” she breathed as she took the pearl brooch from her son’s hand. “This was on your auntie’s wedding dress when she was married. Then I wore it for my wedding to your daddy.”

“You love these things a lot, don’t you, Mama?” Bilbo watched his mother carefully.

“Yes, my love. Keepsakes are wonderful things that bring back many good memories.” Belladonna looked up from the brooch and her face turned serious as she continued, “But Bilbo, always remember: the past is good and well. It’s fine to remember it, but you also have to remember that you are going somewhere, and you are going to make a past too. Don’t get stuck in routine. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mama,” Bilbo said, although he didn’t quite.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Bilbo could hear his mother’s voice as he stared at the Contract.

“The past is good and well. It’s fine to remember it, but you also have to remember that you are going somewhere, and you are going to make a past too. Don’t get stuck in routine. Do you understand?”

And in that moment, Bilbo _did_ understand. He seized the parchment and ran to his study to find his quill and ink.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

Bilbo paused in his writing. Something was missing.

At last, very slowly he wrote: “That morning, Frodo, I understood that I was stuck in routine, stuck in the past. I felt a Took-ish part of me come alight, the part I'd been ignoring all along. So, gathering my things, I ran to catch up to the Company...”


End file.
